


Royals

by Kit_Kat21



Series: Royals [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Era, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: But now, there was something else weighing on Jon’s mind which made him less than happy.He and Sansa would have to go South. For a party.And if there were three things Jon hated, it was traveling, going South and parties.





	Royals

…

When the Queen Daenerys announced her pregnancy with her lover, Jorah Mormont – King Jon still didn’t understand why his aunt didn’t just marry the man – nearly everyone in the six kingdoms of Westeros as well as in the North celebrated the news; the North for a different reason other than just Queen Daenerys having an heir for her throne. 

With the Queen having her own child, that meant that any child that King Jon and Queen Sansa now had, he or she would not have to go South to rule six kingdoms rather than one. Jon and Sansa’s child would be able to stay in the North, causing mischief in the halls of Winterfell and learning the ways of the old Gods and always having the bite of snow on their tongues. 

Jon felt as if a rock he hadn’t even realized was there had now been lifted from his shoulders upon news of his aunt’s pregnancy. He and his wife had yet to have a baby, but he had already hated the idea of his son or daughter having to leave the North when they were old enough to go South and begin their training for when they seceded Dany.

But now, there was something else weighing on Jon’s mind which made him less than happy.

He and Sansa would have to go South. For a party. 

And if there were three things Jon hated, it was traveling, going South and parties. 

But as King of the North, those were three things he had to do more than he would have liked. 

Usually, the traveling bit didn’t bother him as much. The North, after all, was his and every single person within the realm was his responsibility. He loved the North and he loved seeing everything – from the cities to the smallest of towns. He didn’t always like the politics he had to see to – dealing with the Lords and their true meanings behind the words they said to him – but he had allies and knew which ones to trust and knew which ones to watch closely and he always had Sansa at his side when he traveled, to see or hear something he might have missed.

She was so much better at all of that than him.

But going South was going to an entirely different world. 

He generally could control the Northern Lords because he knew their character and what they were after, but going South, all those there he had contact with constantly ran around him and gave him headaches. He couldn’t play games – having never learned any of the tricks or deceit to do so – and after an evening with any of them, he always felt as if he had been spun in endless circles. 

And being the nephew to Queen Daenerys didn’t make the games any easier. If anything, being so close to the throne of the six kingdoms just made the games more complicated and intense. 

The thought of spending an evening at a party filled with those people – all smiling while hiding the knives behind their backs, ready to plunge – it was already making Jon’s head ache and he was looking forward to this trip as much as he looked forward to spending a fortnight, standing upon the Wall in nothing but his smallclothes.

After a council meeting that had gone far too long with the Lords – most of them having to go along to King’s Landing for the celebration and all discussing and debating of who of the Southern Lords they should speak with for one thing or another – Jon was finally able to finish his business for the day and return to his chambers. 

Unlike most royal couples who lived separately, Jon and Sansa shared rooms. Jon saw no reason why he should be away from her. He loved his wife; craved her company and he did not see why he would ever want to wake up in a cold bed each morning without her. 

Sansa was already in their room, but she was not alone. 

She stood on a small platform in front of a three-sided mirror, her seamstress on her knees as she pinned the dress draped over Sansa’s form. Jon entered and went straight for their bed, collapsing across the foot of it and toeing off his shoes. 

“Jon, what do you think?” Sansa asked. “I’m having it made for the party.”

Jon laid on his back and kept his eyes closed. He let out some sort of grunted response that wasn’t actually any words at all. Sansa looked at him through the mirror’s reflection. She knew her husband and knew that he would rather be boiled alive then go to this party – especially a party in the South – but they had very little choice. Not only were they the King and Queen of the North, but he was Queen Daenerys’s nephew. 

_Of course_ they had to attend. 

“Jon,” Sansa said his name and said it in such a tone that she knew did not need to be explained or could be interpreted in any other way besides _“I will not scold you in front of others, but we both know I mean business.”_

Jon let out another grunt and rolled over onto his stomach, lifting his head to look at Sansa and the dress being fit to form her body perfectly. It was long – floor length – with long sleeves and a high neckline. The cut was completely Northern, but the print was light and covered in flowers – Southern in the colors. 

Jon looked at her – really looked at her – and Sansa stood still, letting him look his fill. 

“You know why else I hate going South?” Jon asked her. 

“You need more reasons?” Sansa asked, teasing lightly, and she nodded to the seamstress to let her know that she could continue. 

Jon sighed and dropped his forehead down onto their bed. “All of those slimy Southern Lords do nothing to hide the fact that they’re looking at you, imagining you naked, and I can’t punch any of them.”

He did not have to look at her then to know that she was smiling and blushing from his words. 

Sansa returned to looking at her reflection. “Do we need to get a new suit for you before we leave?” She asked. 

“No,” Jon’s simple, emphatic answer was muffled with his face still against the mattress, but then he lifted his head, a frown storming his features. “And I’m wearing my sneakers,” he then added before dropping his face down once more.

He wondered if he could suffocate himself and if he could, would he still have to attend the party?

“Whatever you wish, Your Majesty,” Sansa said to her husband and nearly rolled her eyes, looking down to the seamstress, and the seamstress pursed her lips together to keep herself from laughing as she continued pinning. 

King Jon might have ruled over the North, but everyone knew who ruled over King Jon. 

…


End file.
